Author's Note: It took a while to get set up and get back online but we're here and ready no matter what part of the world I'm in! We now begin Act 2 and this is where I'll make some major changes plot wise and fix a few things that I knew could have been better. For now it will be cool down and character introduction. As always keep the views, followings, and favourites climbing.

Quick side note; Damien's last name is pronounced "On-drew-shko".

Chapter 24: Life Goes On

August 11th 2010 0600 Hours

Bull Run Estates, Virginia

As his alarm clock went off in his house that was much further away from his neighbors he naturally took a few moments for him to crawl over to hit the snooze button before turning it off. Finishing up the last reports he had to hand to the Secretary of Defense didn't get done until after midnight. Being in the Army for two and a half decades, Marcus Andrushko never once hated a day on the job. But he never got used to the hours that he had to work whether he was in the field fighting or if he was sitting in headquarters making sure that the machine stayed maintained. That machine was the United States Special Operations Command, he had maintained it well but he couldn't do it forever.

God I don't know if I can handle these next five years.

Other than the occasional visits to his friends and family, life had become very repetitive unless he had to travel out of the country. Wake up, decided whether or not to exercise now or after work, eat, make the lengthy trip to the Pentagon, go home, do whatever he didn't get done for the day, sleep, and do the same thing the next day until it was Friday. He had a simple breakfast of oatmeal, apples, and coffee in a rather large kitchen with black granite counter tops and walnut colored wood. He never really used his dining room unless he had more than one guest. He got dressed in his fatigues, cleaned up, and collected his forms in his brief case in his rather ornate study. A cross between a library and a living room it was lined with books, family photos, deployment photos, awards, and memorabilia not only to himself but his father and his grandfather. His old oak desk was separated by a rug he got on a two week deployment to Kuwait next to a stone fireplace with two burgundy leather chairs next to it. It was there where he shared his first beer with his son which seemed like eons ago. He then stared at the only photo on his desk, it was the last one he had when all three of them were together. Before Lauren was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer and long before Damien had disappeared. Her deep red hair, emerald green eyes, and gentle round face complemented her Irish heritage perfectly and his son was almost as tall as she was at only eight years old. While he was grinning ear to ear he had the same piercing blue stare his father had.

"I miss you both, so much."

0730 Hours

Bethesda, Maryland

Age not included, his old back injury that he suffered during his senior year in Annapolis wasn't going to stop him from being active. Even though he was no longer the same field agent he was when he graduated from The Farm, the nature of being the director of the European branch of the CIA was still a dangerous profession. As he ran around the neighborhood life carried on as normal here, despite the fact of their intelligence leak last month. He along with the other branch directors of the CIA had a full plate to deal with but it was insignificant compared to what he was overseeing. As he returned to his home he went to his garage he cleaned off the condensation from the sweat on his glasses and threw his sweaty shirt on the washing machine as usual and grabbed one of his barbells. He could smell the breakfast that Melonie was cooking while he heard Patricia shouting at Arnold to hurry up in the bathroom. He just then realized that the summer was almost over and she would be heading off to the University of North Carolina by next week.

After getting cleaned up he only had a few moments to eat and then he had to get to Langley. He had a plane that was taking off at noon and he had to be there early. Patricia was giving him the stink eye again, he almost never ate in peace when it was breakfast time.

"Dad do you think you can at least put your sweaty gym clothes in the washer first and not leave it laying around?" She complained as if it was the millionth time.

He grinned arrogantly. "You're still in this house so it's my job to make sure you're miserable."

Arnold then chuckled. "Burn."

"Mom!"

"Now, now, you two do this almost every morning. Now George at least clean up after yourself a little bit. It's going to be the last time she'll be around at least until Thanksgiving."

"Alright." He then grabbed his thermos full of coffee. "Ok I got to go. Love you all."

"Love you too dear." She said as she kissed her husband on the cheek.

0825 Hours

The Pentagon, Washington DC

There was only really one way to go to the Pentagon and it was on the interstate but it was always busy. Being a General though had its perks, no one really cared if you were late. The video conference he was about to have with Admiral Olsen wasn't until 0900 and he had time to say good morning to everyone. He also had to give his morning brief to his subordinates and relay any other information they received to higher command. Being the line of communication between MacDill Air Force Base and the Joint Chiefs of Staff meant that General Andrushko had access to a lot of information but he couldn't keep eyes on all of it. He often found it to be a great challenge to get all of the branches working together like this. The combination of soldiers, sailors, marines, airmen and the alphabet agencies meant that there was gonna be some stigma that they would just work with others of their own branch but Andrushko made them work together and implied a professionalism be taken each day and adhere to the concept of being the true eyes of the United States military. His men however wondered how much of this was taking into consideration that for the last two years he had been at odds end on what really happened to his son. Even more so that he lost the two people he loved more than anything in life. They all knew the story from what they had been told from him that had been told by the CIA who informed him of what happened over two years ago. Taliban militants had managed to find out that a certain FOB was not really a FOB at all and they staged a massive raid. The CIA had managed to purge and destroy all of the intelligence there so that it wouldn't fall into the hands of terrorists, but there were no known survivors. The Marines from Shorabak who arrived to inspect the destroyed site weren't able to identify all the bodies and that included Andrushko's son Damien. He held on to that belief that his son was still alive out there somewhere. But his soul was beginning to doubt. His Chief of Staff Colonel Aaron Raiser knew that that's what Marcus had to be thinking about as he was a little hesitant at addressing his flock this morning.

"We're waiting on you sir. We're ready and it's a light plate today." He said gently to get the General's attention.

"Ahem, yes. Anyway as you all know next week will be the final pull out of official combat troops in Iraq. 2nd ID is going be completely gone and not long after that at the end of the month "New Dawn" will begin. SECDEF says that's when all of us are going to start pulling in overtime. Commander?"

The SEAL stood up. "Sir, we'll be stepping up our operations with not only the support troops there but Afghanistan as well. We're already on schedule, we know what to do."

"What about our eyes on Mexico Captain?"

The pilot stood up. "We've been giving the people we trust the most on movements of the drug cartel's from our surveillance drones but what goes down from there sir we can't predict who will get it. Money does have the ability to change opinions."

The General sighed. "Nothing we can really do about it. Anything else?"

The NSA representative he had raised his hand.

"Yes Mr. Carlyle what is it?"

"It may be nothing General but my contacts in China passed something along to me that was a little bizarre."

Andrushko rolled his eyes. "If it's about the North Koreans flexing their bone thin arms again I'm not interested."

"It's not that sir, it's the details of an incident that happened at a state run Chinese steel mill in Ethiopia a few days ago."

"What about it?"

"Well the Chinese are officially saying that it was some local extremists that were against China's influence in Africa so they decided to shoot up the place and they killed a Chinese General in the process."

"Skip to the end man. This so far is sounding like China's problem." He said as if he wanted this meeting to end.

"But according to some evidence they gathered that's not the real story. According to the locals that were interviewed there were only two people that started that attack, a woman initially but a man then joined in the fight presumably as her back up. And from the shell casings that were gathered as evidence, even though it was of NATO origin and caliber they could tell it wasn't Chinese ammunition. Only places to get it from was from either Germany, Britain, or us."

Andrushko then squinted his eyes. "Two people with bullets supposedly provided by us were used to assassinate a General in the PLA?" He then raised an eyebrow. "Do you have any idea how ridiculous that sounds?"

Carlyle held firm. "Beijing is in an uproar over this, I'm just passing on the information General."

Andrushko then checked his watch. "OK I gotta meet with the Admiral in five. If nothing else dismissed."

Not our problem. But still who in the hell would go head on with the PLA?

0900 Hours

CIA Headquarters, Langley, Virginia

"Bookman! Glad I caught you, I wanted to get the latest on what you needed for the operation."

George Black had gone by many names in his career, but they all seemed to fall upon literature. This one was apparently his favorite as that it was knowledge that always triumphed over everything.

"I'm sorry Narville but I'm afraid "Under Shaft" is canceled for today. I have a flight out this morning and I won't be back for a while."

"Aww. That's why I got here so early too. Ok see you when you get back sir."

Black then went to his office to collect his overnight bag and brief case, it was hard to imagine that this office like environment was home to some of the most classified information on Earth. Like the United States military it operated around the clock twenty four hours a day. If foreign state official was cheating on his wife, they knew about it. If a fleet of ships was conducting a training exercise, they knew what for. If a bomber was discussing plans for hitting a peace rally they knew what the target would be specifically. If it was in the best interest of the United States then it would be implemented, regardless of the fact on how it was done was either black or white. But some things required the more simple methods of gathering intelligence, just face to face conversation. That was what George Black needed to do on his trip that would take him to Italy.

"The tickets ready?" He asked his secretary slash driver.

"Yes Chief Black."

"Then let's head to Dulles, my flight's in one hour."

0940 Hours

The driver was fairly new to working with Black and he didn't seem like the type that wanted to work in an office all day. As they were driving toward the airport he turned around to ask.

"Chief can I ask you a question?"

"What is it?" He responded looking out the window.

"It's been on my mind for a while, why do people call you "Bookman"?"

"Most people consider me a bit of a scholar. I'm fluent in Arabic and during my days in Annapolis I was exceptional in ancient Arabian literature so I wanted to be an Arab historian. A lot of my Middle Eastern friends call me "Rajul Alahrf" which means Man of Letters. The Italian's call me "Burattinaio" which means Puppet Master. To be quite honest I have so many nicknames from my contacts around the world I can't really keep up."

His driver chuckled. "Come on Chief it can't be that hard."

"I'm not joking, not many in this line of work thinks that have nicknames and code names is a good idea. Sometimes it can make others seem what they are not."

August 13th 2010 0800 Hours

Athens, Greece, The Mara Nostrum Hotel, Koko's Suite

"Sometimes this job can be pretty sweet."

As I sat outside on the balcony enjoying my baklava and morning coffee overlooking the Aegean Sea, it was a fantastic way to start the morning. The bright blue sea along with the clear sky meant it was gonna be a perfect day. As a fan of history, Greek history was one of my favorite things to study primarily because they influenced the concept of democracy into the world, Athens in particular. Most military types like to proclaim and say how awesome Sparta was because of how ferocious they were as warriors but they really didn't understand the Greek city states actual history or who they were as a people. Their society was a one track mind militarist state and the greatest thing a man could achieve in his life was to die for Sparta. I also found out that women in Sparta at this point in history were given far more political, societal, and economic freedoms than almost any other nation of the ancient world. But their primary role above all else was to be baby makers. I could only imagine of what Sophia would do in that situation, nuff said on that. When I first learned of George S. Patton's famous quote that no bastard ever won a war by dying for his country, you won it by making the other poor dumb bastard die for his country it solidified my perception on what a soldier should truly be. If this state existed in modern times, I would laugh them off and say that this battle was over long before the first shot was fired. The overly strict discipline and arrogant pride of the Spartans played a big role in their downfall as a truly influential part of Greece when they were crushed by the Thebans, one of the more moderate city states, at the Battle of Leuctra.

Not to say that Athens was any better. The Ionian Revolt which they got themselves into hot water with the Persian Empire. Their slave population at the time outnumbered actual Athenians anywhere from 2 to 1 to 6 to 1. Not to mention that girls were inclined to be married when they were fourteen. But I wasn't planning on going around bashing the Greeks for the next two weeks. The beaches, the architecture, the art, and general friendliness of the people I had encountered so far meant that this vacation was going to be a hell of a lot better than our little accident we had in Dubai. Koko was smart enough to bring my scrap book along with a few other "necessities" for me on our little excursion. It was supposed to be enjoyable but that all was ruined when she slammed a relatively thick stack of papers in front of me. A man could hope, sometimes but I didn't think I could beg my way out of this one.

"Ugh. Can we at least do this down on the beach?" I pleaded.

"Consider yourself lucky that you're even looking at the beach. Now get your laptop and help Valmet with the stocks and later you'll help me with tax and transaction records."

She was sitting on her bed already meticulously at work with papers spread out everywhere and giving me the look that I knew I couldn't get out of this situation.

"Fuck."

1200 Hours

Poolside Café

I felt like I was back in high school again. The endless and repetitive amounts of numbers and totally boring shit was causing my brain to melt. At least she was a little bit more merciful by letting us out of the hotel room to work by the pool having lunch. Mediterranean summers were often dry and it sucked that I couldn't swim, but at least I was able to get my tan on. As I sat on the long chair working on the taxes on my laptop the multitude of tourists and locals went on with their vacations while some gave me some odd looks. Granted I had my bandage off and five stitches on my torso from a gunshot wound were dead giveaway. But I did get a few extra glances from a few passing Greek women, just cause I was wearing sunglasses didn't mean I didn't see them eyeballing me. So when I flexed my pectorals a specific way naturally they looked at me a little amorously, Greeks did take great pride in admiring the beauty of the human body. But that all came to a painful end when I was reminded to work and not play with a sharp smack to the back of the head. Which followed by the presence of a real life battle scared Amazon in a black bikini. Then followed by the penetrating stare of one gold colored eye.

"OUCH! Shit, what was that for!?"

"You're here to help out me and Koko not flirt with the local tramps."

Like she was any better at avoiding wandering eyes, she and Koko were gaining the attraction of every male species at the pool. Also not to mention the fact that while she was getting us a bungalow reservation she stomped on a guy's toe breaking it when he tried to hit on her. Granted on whoever was looking at her right now any man would. But in the current world I gotten myself into, someone like her would definitely use her curves and appeal as a weapon. A savvy warrior uses all of his or her tools. Including playing with the emotions of others.

"Hey you made me sleep on the floor again last night, I'm still a little upset. And is this jealousy I hear coming from you?"

"What you're about to hear is the breaking of bone if you don't shut up!"

"Like on how you just almost got the three of us booted out of the hotel for assaulting someone?"

"That's enough you two! I'm not gonna play babysitter to two brats this whole time, so cut it out." Koko appeared behind us in her ridiculous hat and open white shirt. Holding a tray with three plates of Greek.

"Sorry Koko." We said together.

As she handed our lunches to us we dug in, Mediterranean dishes normally popped with a combination of olives, tomatoes, and a lot of greens but I was more of a meat and potatoes kind of guy. The girls had salmon and tomato salad while I had lamb wrapped in pita bread. I had to take small bites and chew extra thoroughly since a portion of my insides were ripped apart by a .45 slug, my food had to go in smooth. It didn't make it any less painful even with the meds I took in small doses.

"You ok Damien?" Koko asked mouth full of salad.

"Yeah, it doesn't hurt as much as it did a few days ago. How you doing Sophia? How's your breathing?"

"I'm ok, it's just that the right side of my back keeps hurting every time I move my arm."

I did notice that her right side was only covering the bullet marks with simple bandages as compared to the gauze I had to wear on my stomach. But there was the larger one that covered her tattoo, I didn't need to figure out that the doctors had to cut through the thing in order to fix her lung. Once we got the chance, I would pay to get her ink fixed.

"Heh, good thing that bitch Low was a lousy shot."

I paused on my next bite and shut my laptop. I then realized it wasn't always the rounds that killed you, it was the damage after that.

"Now what's wrong?"

"Unfortunately she did do what I said she had to do to get to you." I took off my shades. "And it's my fault you got shot too, I wasn't paying attention. Like I said I thank you for saving me but at the time I don't think I deserved it."

As I was looking down at the stitches on my chest I felt two fingers on my forehead separate my hair out of my face and hooking it behind my ears. Koko was looking at me in her usual smile and gentle tone of reassurance.

"Stop blaming yourself. Your both alive right now, that's all that matters."

I smiled back. "You right I'm sorry, but anyway back to our conversation from earlier. You said that the assassins you let go gave you the name of who hired them?"

"Not fully, they just said they would receive a big pay-off from what they believed was a shell company that represented a certain intelligence agency."

That was something I didn't want to hear. I knew there was a lot of people that wanted Koko dead but since I was with her now the heat on her had gotten a lot hotter.

"Scarecrow?" I asked the obvious question.

"No, not in the least. He's not that clued in on you. Now I know this is a sensitive topic, but you do know how the CIA is broken down in handling their agents right?"

"Yeah I do." I put back on my shades and continued to eat. Most definitely not wanting to answer.

"Well come on genius boy or as your Professor I'll have to give you an F."

Koko teased. Sophia laughed. I sighed heavily.

"At the top there's the chiefs that oversee all field operations, depending on which section of theater of operations they oversee. Below them are their staff officers that manage what they can't much like the chain of command in a regular military unit from general to colonel to captain. Field officers come in two types, case officers are basically the HUMIT and do a lot of the information collecting whether it be digital, word of mouth, or physical evidence. Then there's the true one percenters of US Special Operations, the Special Activities Division. Nothing further needs to be said about those psychos."

I said that last part with a lot of grittiness and from the looks on Sophia and Koko's faces they knew what I had experienced from them first hand. I had to constantly look over my shoulder for two years because these guys were literally real life boogie men. They didn't necessarily had to go at you head on or take you out with a sniper round. They could poison your food, tamper with your cars breaks, cause bizarre accidents, or just pay people enough to get them to do their dirty work. But then it hit me.

"Wait a second, don't tell me these guys are the ones that ordered that hit?"

"Well we tend to clash with them more times than I care to admit, they're the only ones that truly make me wanna turn tail and run. But we are as much a thorn in their side as they are in ours. It's just that that last bunch made me think."

It wasn't long after my little rampage on Anvil that I went to Istanbul to hide out for a while once I got enough money in Pakistan. Naturally I was going through a little more stress than I should have. Even though I was trained to avoid capture by the enemy, I didn't think I'd have to run from my own military. I had to take in the advice of some of my new employer's on how to stay off the radar of the intelligence agencies. After I left Pakistan I went through a bit of a stressful episode and was trying to figure out what the hell I was gonna do next. Since I had no ideas, I figured I just wing it and do whatever. It wasn't till after a night of a little too much drinking I woke up from a black out and the first thing I asked myself was that how the hell was I still alive? Despite Kane and his squad being egotistical pricks they were picked from the best in special forces across all the branches. But then I realized that they also recruited from the worst as well. They wanted guys to do the nasty shit, the type of shit your average man wouldn't lose sleep over. Except in my case they picked up something a bit too unstable and it blew up in their face.

"Someone you know?"

"There's a lot of people that want me dead. But there is one that kind of stood out the most."

I then heard Sophia growl. "That bitch never knows when to quit."

"Well who's this 'bitch'?" I asked Koko.

"We don't know her real name but she's a female SAD member that goes by the code name 'Hex'."

"Hold up a lady SAD member? You sure she's not a field agent?"

"Nope. I've only heard rumors but she's pretty much on par with your knowledge and skills as a Green Beret."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I know that these types of stories end up as cool entertainment if you wanted to meet Black Widow or Cat Woman. But then again, the SAD were a law unto themselves, it did make me question this woman's mental stability. Not that I have any real right to judge a person's mental well-being considering what I did. But she had to have been a veteran of this kind of crap. At least I could take pride in the fact on what I knew was going on was wrong.

"Well then I'll admit, you may be right. But I'm infinitely more likable and better looking aren't I?"

I finished putting my hands behind my head attempting to flex but I then remembered I had a hole in my chest and reacted to the pain in a way that I just stubbed my toe really hard.

"Likeable idiot is more appropriate." Sophia burned and Koko laughed.

"Well if your insistent on looks then follow Valmet's example and get a haircut."

I then took slight offense to that, I kind of prided it. It showed that I never wanted to be associated with Army life again as I ran my hands through it. I then realized it had gone past my shoulders and was now reaching my chest.

"Koko you are my boss not my mother. I'll put it in ponytail if I need to."

"Hey I'm serious. You keep growing it we're gonna lose you under all that hair and it'll be something in the way when Valmet kisses you next time."

I then heard a plate shatter and the sound of choking on food followed by spitting it back out.

"KOKO! You were watching us!?"

"Nah. I just found that out just now."

Caught in her own words she had no idea what to say and instead just turned away from us and picked up the pieces of the broken plate as if she didn't hear a word she said. I then just realized that I was also caught in a battle of which I didn't think I could win. Koko then stood up and grabbed me by the head pulling me a little too tightly to her chest.

"Well if you're going to act like that then I'm going to take Damien out to show him the sights and you can do the rest of the paperwork."

"But Koko-!"

"NO BUTS! Come along Damien or do you want to keep working?"

Like I said, this SERIOUSLY can't be happening.

"Sorry Sophia she wins. If I have to look at one more tax form I'll gouge my own eyes out."

I then realized that I probably shouldn't have done that. Not cause of fear of physical repercussion but since she did save my life I shouldn't just fall back on to how we interacted from before. I would have to make a proper apology when I got my camera filled up. But I really couldn't keep going on with those forms, it wasn't worth it.

1900 Hours

Naples, Italy

As R was enjoying the comforts of home in one of the local bistros he knew that there was more on his vacation than he had planned. He made a call to him and insisted that he speak face to face given the incident that happened a week ago. A simple dish of spaghetti and marinara was hearty enough but he knew his guest would want something a bit more filling so he ordered a thick cut of ribeye. The last two years he spent undercover were starting to show signs that whatever Koko was planning was going to be completed soon. But something more complicated and even dangerous had come up in the last few months, Damien. His exploits were already well known throughout the intelligence world, but from working alongside him for all these months showed that the so called Nightmare was not all that he appeared to be. But that was a separate topic, he was about to get his answers from what he really wanted to know from the man who he first met in the Bosnian War fifteen years ago.

"It's been a long time Saw."

He held out his hand and he shook it firmly.

"Glad to see your still doing well, R."

R then mentioned to his waiter that his guest was here and brought the food and wine over. Bookman then dug in rather carnivorously. R poured a full glass of cabernet.

"I see you still have a healthy appetite."

"What are you my wife? I hungry from all that travel. But anyway what on earth do you need me for? It had to be REAL urgent if you want to talk to me face to face."

R finished his glass rather quickly and then explained.

"We had an incident a few days ago, turns out someone at the company backed a bunch of hitmen to target Koko and I was also shot at by one of them. From what she said that the same people who were watching us were the same ones who hired them."

Bookman then swallowed another piece of meat. "Sounds like she's pointing the finger at us. But your right this could grow into a bit of a tumor. This mission would come to a screeching halt and your cover would be done if she ever found out about you. Sending assassins doesn't make a damn bit of sense and Koko is a crucial part of this operation. Nothing good would come from killing her."

R then refilled his glass and twirled up a bite of spaghetti.

"Which is why I didn't believe you were behind this. But I needed to see you and confirm that. But that also means…"

"An insider?" He finished up for him.

"Possibly. I know Koko has a lot of enemies but if something like this comes up again I might not have any choice but to expose myself and she wouldn't hesitate to kill me if she found out I was working for the company. If I was lucky she'd only let me explain and then kill me."

"Alright, I'll get to the bottom of this you don't need to worry."

"Thank you, I appreciate it."

"Just one more thing since we rarely have these conversations what have you learned about the target in the last two years you've been under cover?"

R took a deep breath and set down his glass.

"To be perfectly honest Saw I have no fucking idea. The woman hides her true feelings and emotions behind a very thick aura. Kinda reminds me of when you first picked me up in Bosnia. Those warlords I was chasing with the Bersaglieri were all different types. Some smart others charismatic but they all had dark hearts. She however is different. While being one of the most beautiful women I've ever met, whatever the situation is she walks solely on the gray path, the fine line of good and evil. Remember about when I reported in that she turned over Nicoleavich to us? I remember she saying that he was a dragon of our own creation and one of the doctors we were escorting said maybe she was one too."

Bookman then burst out in a polite laugh. "I'm sorry continue."

"She tried to hide it but her actions after that seemed off balance. She's aware of what she's turning into and she's afraid of what her subordinates will see her for when her true form emerges."

"That's actually quite human of her. I don't want to see her become an uncontrollable beast either. But one that still concerns me is her acquaintance with that crazy Japanese scientist Amada. They're scheming something so secret that it's not even funny."

R then finished his wine and last bite of spaghetti, he figured it was now time to tell him a little secret of his own.

"There is one more thing here that we haven't taken into consideration. Something I don't think either of us could have foreseen. I didn't report this in partially because he never had anything to do with this operation. But then a few days ago I realized that he's a wild card in this whole thing."

"What do you mean, who?"

"Back in April we received a new member of Koko's crew. When we first met him everyone had looks of concern but honestly, I was the only one there that was on the verge of shitting myself. Damien Hannibal Andrushko."

Bookman froze as he took his last bite of meat but then began to chew like normal. The man who took the CIA head on and survived was with his undercover agent in Koko Hekmatyar's company. If he was concerned he didn't show it.

"You said he was a wild card, how do you figure?"

"I think that the designation for calling him "Nightmare" is a bit of an over exaggeration from what I've found out about him. The stories about his exploits are true, about HIM though, not so much."

"Go on."

"He's every bit as determined and deadly as people say he is. He's also extremely intelligent, both intellectually and socially. He seemingly always wants to grow and learn more. The reason he's a total wild card is because if he at all figures out what this operation is I don't know for sure how he will react to it. But he's easier to read than you might think. He's actually one of the funniest people I've ever met in my life. I also eavesdropped on a conversation that the little lady had with our team leader John Lehmbrick. How he took on the SAD because apparently they shot first, he believes that he took things too far and he hates himself for it. As well as the fact that he hasn't seen home in so long he misses it. I can tell because of how often he checks the news for what's happening in America all the time. He tends to hide sadness behind a scowl of ruggedness. But there was one thing that sold me on that whoever gave him that nickname was full of it."

"What was that?"

"One of our members Valmet, former FRDP Major Sophia Velmer, left on a rouge mission just a few days before the assassins came. Damien followed her and a week later we had to pick them both up badly injured in Ethiopia. Damien almost bled to death trying to save her life. He also seems to act as a limiter for Koko, allows her to be a little more carefree and relieve any type of built up tension. What she sees in him, I have no idea. Lastly before we then split off to our vacation spots he then told us he was glad to be part of something special and that he loved us all and I didn't need to figure out someone else too. He gave me a copy of the picture we took before we left, here."

He pulled out his smart phone and handed it to Bookman. They were comically bunched together with various poses with Damien and Valmet in the center with Koko grabbing both their hair. Bookman then thought it was terribly cute.

"You mentioned someone else, care to mention who?"

"It's only a guess but I'm gonna say only one of two." He said as he chuckled.

"Heh heh. Well if nothing else I want to leave you with one more thing. Find out how many rockets she's fired."

"I'll try, anything else?"

"If Andrushko trust's you, make sure you maintain that trust."

"You're not thinking of making him part of the plan are you?"

"No you were right earlier. He doesn't have anything to do with this and he's a wild card. It'd be best to keep him uninvolved."

With that the two men concluded their meeting. The CIA was getting close to try and turn Koko into whatever scheme they were hatching. The world of spy's was a very elaborate chess game and it didn't always include just two sets of playing pieces. A changing world was arriving, it was all a matter of who was going to steer it.